Playing the Game
by Evening Ivory
Summary: In a world where several things are different, Harry Potter was the Dark Lord. There was no Tom Riddle and no Lord Voldemort. When he's killed by Albus Dumbledore, Death gives him an option he can't refuse—Another life. Eventual HP/LV, Dark!AU!Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Playing the Game**

**Chapter One**

**Author: Evening Ivory**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, would I be writing fanfiction for it?**

**Rating: T (might go up later) **

**Summery: In a world where several things are different, Harry Potter was the Dark Lord. There was no Tom Riddle and no Lord Voldemort. When he's killed by Albus Dumbledore, Death gives him an option he can't refuse—Another life. Eventual HP/LV, Dark!AU!Harry. **

**Authors Note: Finally, **_**finally, **_**I've got a story I want to stick to. It's sad when you write thousands of different stories and they never get finished. Hopefully now that I've just graduated I can finish something. :P Anyway, enjoy! **

**WARNINGS! I am not British. I know nothing about British slang, so if I do butcher it, please let me know so I can fix it. This WILL eventually be (nongraphic) slash! I warned you! And there is a bit of swearing in this chapter. **

There were two things Harrison Tobias Snape didn't know and couldn't have ever predicted about this day. Two things that, if he'd known, would have made this his least favorite day ever. The first thing he didn't now was that he was going to die. The second was what would happen afterward.

"Lord Syon! Your left!" Lucius Malfoy called out, firing curses at their enemies.

A feral grin wound on Harry's face. He spun around, dodging several nasty spells, and cast several _Avada Kedavras. _He laughed, loudly and was pleased to see many of his opponents shiver and freeze at the sound. Half of him was reveling at the death and bloodshed around him while the other half was keeping an eye on his followers.

His godfather Lucius was close by him and even with his stony, pureblood face Harry could see that so very alive spark in his eyes. On his left flank he saw Bellatrix Lestrange, laughing despite being surrounded by Light wizards. In a moment, blood was flying from her enemies, obscuring her from view. He could see his father Snape and Draco tag teaming Alastor Moody, that damn Auror who they held quite a grudge against. His other followers were scattered, few dead, few dying, and most killing Light wizards with an intensity that made Lord Syon proud.

He laughed again as a wizard tried slicing his torso open with a cutting hex. "Just give up already," he said soothingly to the man, "You will be spared if you just surrender now." That was a lie, of course. Lord Syon would not take prisoners in this battle today, not when his goals required every enemy in this room died. The man froze, hesitated, and he sighed. "Very well." He flicked his wand, expecting the man to be dead, but something redirected his curse to the wall.

Lord Syon turned, a blank look on his face. Wandlessly, he flung a curse at the man and briefly enjoyed the sounds of him choking on his own blood, but he focused on his opponent. "Hello, Minister Longbottom," he said politely.

"Damn you, Harrison!" Neville snarled, his wand pointed threateningly. "You dare attack my Ministry while I am here? After what you've done to me? You shouldn't have come, because I WILL kill you!"

Harry raised a brow. "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me. Haven't you said you were waiting for our great, amazing battle?" He cocked his head, a mocking smirk on his face. "Though you don't seem up to par tonight. Are you sleeping well? Or are the nightmares of that red-headed bitch still keeping you up?"

_"You bastard!" _he roared, firing off a curse.

Harry grinned, deflecting his attack and they began dueling. For all he cared, the rest of the battle was unimportant, just as long as he finally killed Longbottom here and now.

Nothing else mattered.

"I'm impressed," Lord Syon said, "You've improved over the years. Dumbledore must have finally started training his Golden Boy."

Neville clenched his jaw, firing off another spell. The man was getting better at controlling himself, but he'd crack eventually.

"Does it hurt you?" he mocked calmly, "To know that he was right about me? That everything and everyone you ever loved is gone because of your trust in me? Poor little Longbottom. Even as Minister you can't protect your friends."

Longbottom snapped, screaming in rage. His spellwork became sloppier for half a second and Lord Syon cooly and coldly reflected his attacks. He shot a slicing hex at his Achilles's tendons and Neville went down on his knees. He severed the boy's wand hand and gleefully watched it thump to the ground. Harry picked the wand out of its grip and snapped it in front of Longbottom's eyes. The devastation was written clearly on his face and Harry threw the pieces to the side. Lord Syon kneeled and grabbed Longbottom's chin, sneering at the fear now in his eyes.

"But Dumbledore was wrong about one thing. You. Are. Not. My._ Equal." _Each word was followed by a cutting curse to Longbottom's throat. He watched in delight as the man died slowly, the light leaving his eyes, just like the Light opposition that was dying tonight. He was about to leave, satisfied, when Longbottom looked beyond Harry's shoulder and smirked.

"I win," he gurgled.

Lord Scion turned just in time to see a bolt of green light headed for him. Albus Dumbledore was the caster.

~LV-HP~

"So this is death..." he said to himself quietly, looking around the sterile white train station. It was vacant. No people or trains. A humorous part of him wondered whether this was heaven or hell and how he'd got to be so lucky being there alone.

"Not quite." Harry spun around. "This is more like a waiting room. A choice." The voice was almost multi-layered, both old and young at the same time, but male. Harry spotted a figure in black, darkness coating him like mist.

"And you are?" he asked.

The figure nodded his head at Harry. "I am Death."

Curiously, Harry stepped closer to Death, watching his breath become visible. "Death." He cocked his head to the side, "I think I know you. From...somewhere..."

"You could say that," Death said in amusement. He placed His hand on the side of Harry's face and he gasped at the feeling. Ice cold, but comfortable and alluring like his first kill. The Dark Lord relaxed.

"You said this place was a choice. What kind of choice?" he asked.

Death took a step away, facing the train tracks. The dark mist around him caressed Harry's legs, which he now realized were bare. He was completely starkers! He imagined a cloak around him and sighed in relief when it appeared. Death chuckled at him.

"Did you want to die?" Death asked.

"Of course not. I almost had the Wizarding World in the palm of my hand, I had nearly taken over the Ministry and I finally killed that fool Longbottom," Harry said, "I was so close..."

A moment of silence. "What if you could live again?"

He sucked in a breath. "What...what do you mean?"

Death looked at him and Harry was transfixed by his stare. "There are other universes, as you know. Other Harrys, other Wizarding Worlds. What would you do if you could live out one of those lives?"

"I..." Harry struggled with himself, "But why?"

"I do get bored, you know," he said wryly, "And messing with fate is one of the few entertainments I am allowed. Besides, I like you." He chuckled at Harry's surprise. "I can wait another life before seeing _you_ again. What do you say?"

Harry shrugged, "Sure. But I'd like to know under what terms I'd be doing this."

Death nodded, "Of course. You'd retain all your memories and your magic. No sense putting you back in there without them. You'd be going in at a young age, possibly even as an embryo-" Harry twitched in disgust- "and you'd have to grow up. No restrictions really, except ones you could already guess. Don't go around talking about our deal to everyone, only those you can really trust."

Slowly, Harry nodded, "Sounds good. Anything else I should know?"

"Yes," Death said lowly, "A warning. The world you know and the world you are going to are very different, Harry. The faces and names will be the same, but the people behind them won't always be. You might not like what you find there."

"I'll manage," he said quietly.

Death nodded, "Very well, Harry. _Good luck._" He lifted a finger to Harry's forehead and then Harry was falling, falling, falling down into darkness.

"And one more thing," echoed Death's voice, "Find the Deathly Hollows."

~LV-HP~

He was somewhere dark and warm. _Oh no, _he moaned mentally, _Please tell me I'm not-_

"Is he still sleeping?" a voice whispered.

Sleeping? Harry noticed suddenly the darkness was from his closed eyes and the warmth from a pair of delicate arms around him. _Thank Merlin. _He made a show of yawning weakly and opening his eyes. He looked up at the familiar face of his mother holding him. She smiled brightly at him and his heart clenched. How much was this Lily like his mother?

"Not anymore," she said in amusement, "I wonder how he ever sleeps when you and your friends are around, James."

_'James'? JAMES! THAT SON OF A-! _Harry froze mentally at that name, moving his head to look around him. It couldn't really be _James-bloody-Potter _could it?

"I don't think almost-one-year-olds have a good sleeping schedule to begin with, Lils," the voice said again, "Lemme hold him."

He was passed over, feeling strange being so small and easily controlled. He looked up, eyes wide and wanted to curse. James Potter was holding him. James. Fucking. Potter. He should've been dead! He would be, if Harry had anything to say about it after what had happened in his last life. Why was his mother, a Dark Pureblood witch, with this mudblood scum that had raped her? Unless...unless things were very, very different in this world.

It didn't matter though, because Harry still hated the man. He squirmed and fussed in his hold, scowling. He wanted to see his father, adoptive or not. Where was Snape? He had to be close by, right?

"Woah, woah, Harry, what's the matter?" Potter said with a frown, "Are you hungry?"

"Can't handle a baby, Prongs?" another man said with a smirk. Sirius Black, Harry recognized him even though he hadn't really known him in his last life. Behind him was another man with scars lining his face. Harry was sure that he was a werewolf that he'd seen in Greyback's pack before, though he hadn't a clue who he was.

James rolled his eyes. "Like you could do any better, Padfoot. We leave him with you for a moment and he'll either be on a broom or stuffed with candy."

Black puffed his chest out and looked mockingly affronted, "What? I'll have you know I am excellent with kids. I babysat my little brother for years. I'll show you." Without another word he pulled Harry out of James hands and began twirling him around. Harry was getting a little sick and dizzy.

"Sirius!" his mother chastised, "Stop that this instant and give me back my son."

Black smiled sheepishly and stopped. Harry promptly threw up on his shoes. _Serves you right_, he thought as his mother took hold of him again. "And you wonder why girls aren't falling over themselves to marry you."

Black cleaned his shoes with a _Scourgify_ and looked horrified at the idea of marriage, "She said the word, Remus! The evil 'M' word! The bane of my existence!"

The werewolf, Remus, sighed, "Come on Sirius. We've got to get going before you do something unrepairable."

~LV-HP~

Harry spent the next few weeks gathering information about this different reality he was in and wasn't too happy with what he found. Apparently, James Potter was a Pureblood and his mother was a muggleborn and they'd gotten together some time during their Hogwarts years. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew (who he'd met later) were all friends with Potter during Hogwarts and all of them just happened to be Griffindors. They'd also made nicknames for each other in their little group of the 'Mauraders' based upon their Animagi and, in Lupin's case, his werewolf.

He'd also discovered that, to his annoyance, his parents were part of some group that was ran by Dumbledore. They called it the 'Order' or something and apparently there was a war going on at the moment. Harry was curious about that. Who was leading the other side? And as it was, nearly all of the people in the Order had been his enemies at some time or another. He did see Neville Longbottom once, as his parents had brought him, and Harry made it clear that they were not friends.

Frustratingly, he was only brought when his parents couldn't find a babysitter so he didn't learn as much as he would have liked. And he never saw his father. Harry assumed he was Dark, and while he was happy about that, he wasn't happy that apparently his father and mother weren't together. She never even talked about him, almost like he didn't even exist.

He wasn't even a year old yet and his life already sucked.

~LV-HP~

Something was wrong. Suddenly, only days from his birthday, something had happened and it had forced his parents into hiding on Dumbledore's word. Harry heard several words muttered between Dumbledore and his parents. _Prophecy, Voldemort_, and _Secret Keeper _being the most frequent. Harry also heard them saying that the Longbottoms were under the same precaution. So, apparently, there was a Prophecy that may or may not be about him and this world's Dark Lord now wanted to kill him because of something in it so Dumbledore cast a Fidelus on their house while making _Peter Pettigrew_ the Secret Keeper. He was trying to wrap his head around everything.

Harry already knew they were doomed. Wormtail might have been their friend, but friendship would always be second to a man like him. There was a cowardly glint in Wormtail's eye and if this 'Dark Lord' was worth his salt he'd exploit that. Harry would have. Harry found himself often frustrated, wishing he could grow up and return to his name of Lord Syon. Then he'd show this would-be Dark Lord what he'd get for trying to kill him.

His birthday came and his parents put aside their fears to celebrate in overabundance. Harry was already walking really well and speaking a few basic words. He was glad for that, except he was pretty sure he wouldn't be alive much longer to enjoy it. Months passed, and Harry had a feeling when this Dark Lord was going to attack.

He was right. Halloween.

"It's him! Lily, take Harry and run!"

Harry watched as James faced the door, his jaw set firmly as he pointed his wand at it. Harry wasn't sure what to feel about this man who was willing to give his life to save Harry. Perhaps he could be grateful to this James Potter, the Pureblood, despite how in his other life James Potter the Muggleborn had raped his mother and left her for dead.

His mother ran up the stairs to where his nursery was. What was she doing? They were both going to die if they stayed here! She set him in his crib and pet his black hair. She kissed his forehead and smiled at him with watery eyes. "Mamma loves you very much, Harry," she said shakily, "So, so much."

Despite her differences with his other mother, Harry found he loved this woman just as much and he felt his heart clench. He felt the magic of the Killing Curse from below and knew that James was dead. Lily faced the door, no wand in hand, just standing in front of his crib. Harry didn't know if she was crazy or just stupid. Did she think that a Dark Lord would just let her go if he thought Harry was a threat? Not likely.

The door swung open and Harry was surprised at what he saw. A tall man with white, scaly skin stepped through. Where his nose should have been there was two slits and the man's eyes were the color of rubies with slitted pupils. This was definitely the Dark Lord, just based on his appearance. The man's magic washed through the room with a very Dark feeling. It was strong, intoxicating, and Harry knew it was just a fraction of the man's true strength. If there was going to be another Dark Lord in this world, Harry was glad it was someone with real power.

"No, not Harry! Please, not Harry!" his mother pleaded.

"Stand aside you silly girl! Stand aside now." How odd...the Dark Lord was giving his mother a chance to live. Why?

"Take me! Not Harry! Anyone but Harry!"

With a sneer, a green light shot from Voldemort's wand and his mother fell to the floor. Harry looked at her and sighed. He would miss her. He looked back up at Voldemort curiously. He hadn't met anyone like him in his other life. He'd never even heard the name Voldemort before, though it sounded French. Even though he was going to die, he was very intrigued by this man. Who was he? Voldemort was the first person that he'd met this time that he hadn't known before, by name or face.

Well, Harry would go back to Death now. Maybe he should complain about how he'd been ripped off in this new life. He met Voldemort's eyes without fear, waiting for the spell. The Dark Lord seemed slightly unnerved, but he pointed the wand at him all the same.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

The spell hit him, but instead of dying, he felt like his forehead was ripped open and something was forced in the gap and the green light reflected back at Voldemort. He screamed loudly and suddenly his body was turned to ash, leaving him a smoking pile on the carpet. Harry passed out in pain a moment later, wondering just what the hell had happened.

~LV-HP~

**Alright. First chapter done. I'll probably be putting in some more stuff regarding Harry's other life, so if you were confused by some of the hints I dropped, don't worry. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Playing the Game**

**Chapter Two**

**Author: Evening Ivory**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, there would be a lot more badassness on Harry's part and a lot more sexiness on Voldemort's part. But I don't. **

**Rating: T (might go up later)**

**Summery: In a world where several things are different, Harry Potter was the Dark Lord. There was no Tom Riddle and no Lord Voldemort. When he's killed by Albus Dumbledore, Death gives him an option he can't refuse—Another life. Eventual HP/LV, Dark!AU!Harry. **

**Authors Note: Thanks to all of those who have reviewed. Here's chapter two. I should be updating about once a week so look forward to it. :D **

~LV-HP~

Oh, he _hated_ Dumbledore. How could any wizard be so stupid as to leave a magical child with bloody _muggles_? Petunia, Dudley, and Vernon Dursley. They'd been muggles in his last life too, the difference was that when he'd first heard of them it had been in a casualty list his followers had handed him in passing. He'd merely checked their names off apathetically. After all, he wasn't against muggles personally and had hardly had anything to do with them. He'd been more concerned about Dark creatures and about Light wizards brainwashing society.

These people made him consider changing his muggle policy.

It was obvious from the moment Petunia had screamed at the sight of him that she hated him. Apparently, whatever the letter had said had given her no choice, so she ended up dumping him in the same room as Dudley. He was treated fine enough, as it was convenient for her to take care of him while taking care of her precious son. Then, Vernon had commented that since Dudley was a growing boy, he needed not one, but _two _bedrooms to himself. And thus Harry was put in the closet under the stairs. That's when Petunia "forgot" to feed him and take care of him.

Out of necessity, Harry trained himself to take care of himself, including going to the bathroom and taking a bath. His body wasn't being fed enough and Harry wasn't going to let himself become some weak, malnourished child. He was disgusted by the Dursleys, but he couldn't do anything about it...yet. Once his magical core stabilized he knew _plenty _of untraceable spells he could use on them. Then, he'd have some fun. Unfortunately, until he worked out some better living arrangements for himself, they'd have to stay alive.

Time passed slowly...once Harry was four, his core had finally stabilized and he'd tested his magic. It was as strong as before, but difficult spells would still have to wait a bit longer while his body got used to the magic. Coincidentally, it was also the time Vernon got the gall that he could order Harry around with his physical strength. The Dark Lord sneered at them. If only they knew who he really was. Harry deftly avoided him each time, making the man get more and more angry. Things finally came to a head when they ordered him to start making them their meals.

"No," Harry said sharply.

"What did you say, _boy_?" Vernon said. Petunia and little Dudders stood nearby, watching avidly.

"I said no, you fat walrus, I will not make your food. Merlin knows you eat enough as it is."

_"You...you dare!" _Vernon sputtered. Petunia herself was gaping in shock that he could even say such things. At his age, being able to string sentences together like that was unnatural..._freakish._

"Yes, I dare," Harry rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Now, if you're done ordering a child around like a worthless fool, I'll be going." He turned on his heel, walking towards the door, and gathered his magic. Just like he predicted, Vernon stomped after him and grabbed his arm.

"You little freak! You'll do what I say-"

Harry looked into his eyes and released his magic. He felt the euphoric flow of Dark magic, though the spell had drained him more than he would've liked. "Get your hands off me, you ridiculous waste of space!" It was almost comical how quickly the blood dropped from Vernon's face and he fell to his knees with a groan.

"Vernon! What did you do to him?" Petunia asked. Harry flung his hand and stunned her and Dudley. It would be no fun if they got in the way.

Vernon began moaning, his face contorted in fear. Harry smirked as he started screaming. This was one of his most favorite spells, a very Dark and very illegal one he found in one of Grindlewald's old journals. It was intended as an interrogation/torture spell for when one didn't want to be tracked. Harry had used it often, mostly on those that betrayed him. The spell would make the victim live out their worst fears in horrendous detail, as well as experiencing what torture the caster would like to put them under. Best thing about it was that the victim was still aware of the things going on around them so the caster could "interrogate" them.

"Poor, poor uncle," Harry said in mocking softness, "I do wonder what your worst fears are or how you'd actually hold under those Dark spells...but I can be merciful. Do what I tell you to, and I'll release you, I'll let you live your pathetic life in relative peace. We could even pretend this whole thing never happened." Vernon promptly turned green and threw up on the kitchen floor. He was shaking, but his eyes were still on Harry.

"Or, I could kill you and your family, quite happily. And it would be oh, _so_ easy to do. It wouldn't be the first time. So, Vernon, what will it be? Are you going to be good and do what I say? Or do I have to kill you?" The man shook his head repeatedly. "Good. First, you will give me Dudley's second bedroom and I will have free roam wherever I please. Second, you will not order me around and I will have my three square meals a day. Are we clear?"

Vernon nodded, "Y-yes."

"Very good," Harry smirked and released the family from the spells. "Watch your tongue and everything will be just fine."

~LV-HP~

It only took a few more threats before he had the Durselys well trained. Even their tubby child caught on when his parents attitude's changed drastically. Harry had all that he wanted, despite a few whispers of him being a demon, and did what he pleased. Subjugating his relatives was the only fun he had and it was getting boring quickly. He was itching to get back into the Wizarding World, back into the game between he, Dumbledore, and Voldemort. Who knew how the stakes had changed already?

Harry wasn't a fool. Voldemort was still alive out there somewhere. The Killing Curse always left a body, in any _normal_ case. But this wasn't normal. He had so many questions that needed answers, and all the answers were temporarily out of his reach. So he waited to grow up and it did teach him a little about being patient. He went to school—his teachers thought he was some kind of prodigy and had him moved up a grade—and practiced his magic. It was sometime when he was seven that he found out he had quite a unique ability.

He didn't quite care to go, but his class was taking a fieldtrip to the zoo. _At least it's time away from the Dursleys_, he thought. They went off and Harry followed his class in boredom, watching them oogle the animals from a safe distance. Harry sighed, turning away towards a habitat of snakes. He looked at the large, beautiful snake and felt remorse that such a dangerous creature was forced into captivity as entertainment for a bunch of children. A little sign in the corners said Boa Constrictor, bred in captivity.

"You must hate it in there, being watched and treated like some sort of pet," Harry mumbled.

_"It has itsss days."_ The snake raised its head and looked at him.

Harry froze. "Can you understand me?"

_"Obviously."_

He paid close attention to what he was saying, listening to the hiss of his voice. _"This is new. How the hell did I become a parselmouth?" _It was impossible. He knew that each Dark bloodline had its own unique gift passed on through the generations. The Evans line had had a sort of empathy in his other life, but it didn't carry on to this one. And he knew that parseltongue was part of the Slytherin bloodline, so how had it ended up with him? His mom was a muggleborn and James was a Potter with absolutely no connection with Slytherin.

Wait...

Who was Voldemort, really?

Harry's pride also took a slight jab to the fact that he really didn't know as much about this world as he should. How much was really different? Obviously, there had been a war much sooner than in his last life, thanks to Voldemort. He was at a huge disadvantage, and the Lord Syon in him told him to move his ass now. He would be the Dark Lord again, the _only _Dark Lord, and he would have the pleasure of watching the light leave Albus Dumbledore's eyes.

_"You know what?" _he said to the snake,_ "I'm in a bit of a mood, so I'm going to let you out."_ He put out just enough magic to make it seem accidental, and suddenly the glass was gone. The snake slithered out with a hissy chuckle.

_"Brazil, here I come...Thanksss, amigo."_

_"Anytime," _Harry said, smirking as the people started screaming.

~LV-HP~

Diagon Alley had changed a bit. Quite a few shops and stores were different and the feel that it gave was...too happy. Like a forced smile. Even with Voldemort 'dead' he'd left quite a mark. Harry wondered if in his reign he'd done the same. At the moment, though, he was focusing on getting to Gringotts. Fortunately for him, he'd found a black cloak to hide his face and his scar so, even if the crowds thought he was crazy for wearing that in the middle of summer, at least he stayed anonymous for the moment. When _Harry Potter_ made his first appearance, Lord Syon wanted it just perfect.

He inclined his head to the goblin at the gate as it bowed to him. Harry glided through, ignoring the goblins on the sides as he headed to the front desk. Harry took his hood down, though the goblin didn't seem too interested.

"I'm here to do some business," he said bluntly.

"Name," the goblin asked/said in boredom. He didn't even look up from his paperwork.

"Harry Potter," he said with a smirk.

At that, the goblin stopped, his eyes flickering to Harry's forehead. "I see. Well, Mr. Potter, I didn't expect you here for several more years. Not at such a young age."

"I gather this is unusual, but I assure you I am plenty mature enough to know what I'm doing."

"Of course," the goblin said smoothly, "I assume you'd like to access your trust fund vault?"

He raised his brows. "Trust fund vault? I had thought that the only vault I had was the Potter vault. I don't even have the keys for them. Did my parents leave them for me to claim?"

The goblin had an odd look on its face, "No, the keys were given to your magical guardian."

"My magical guardian?" he said lowly, "I have no idea who that might be."

"I see," the goblin said, surprised and annoyed, "If you'd like I can arrange a meeting with the manager of the Potter accounts. He will also be able to tell you if there are any other vaults left in your name."

"I'd also like a copy of my parents will sent in, if you wouldn't mind," Harry said, "I believe there were some mix ups regarding my current guardians."

"Of course," he said. "Prizit!"

Another goblin came up and bowed to Harry. "This way, Mr. Potter."

Harry followed him to a separate, small chamber that was used for more private business. Prizit set a few things on the table, the first being a blank piece of parchment and then a wicked looking dagger. He held a few more papers in his hand.

"As a precaution, I'm going to have to ask you for some of your blood," he said, "Just a drop on the parchment if you will."

Harry picked up the dagger and cut his palm. He held the bloody dagger over the parchment and tapped a drop on it. Immediately words began to form on the paper. Prizit picked up the parchment and vanished the dagger.

"Did you say you didn't have your keys?"

He nodded, "I don't even know how many vaults I have and I just barely learned about my trust fund vault. I don't suppose you can tell me who my magical guardian is."

"It says in your file that your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore. He is the holder of your keys and also has access to your trust fund vault."

"Is that so?" Harry asked very quietly. "Is he my legal guardian? What does my parents will say?"

Prizit sneered, "Curiously enough, it seems your parents will is missing. Apparently, it has been sealed."

"Let me guess...Dumbledore's orders. How curious that he not only became my magical guardian but also decided who to place me with." Harry was furious, but did his best to hide it.

"Very strange, indeed," the goblin looked angry that anyone would mess with Gringotts business. "As it is, he doesn't have access to your Potter vaults. Without addition of your trust fund vault, there are two other vaults in your name, as well as three pieces of property."

"What property?"

"There's your house in Godric's Hollow, a cottage by the sea, and a manor in Scotland."

Harry was surprised about the first one, considering how damaged it probably was. "What is in the vaults?"

"The first is mostly money thought the second seems to have many items in it. Both will become accessible to you once you reach adulthood and take your Potter Lord ring."

"And what is the activity from my trust fund vault?"

"It appears that there has been only two withdrawals, both shortly after your..._dissappearance_. A large sum of money and an item."

Harry did his best to breath evenly. _Dumbledore will pay for this. _ "I'll need a copy of the keys made as well as the locations of my property. Is there a way for me to make withdrawals without him being alerted?"

Prizit smiled nastily, "I'm sure it could be arranged."

"Good. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to go to my vault now."

Prizit called a goblin named Griphook and Harry took a ride down to his vault. He pulled out a generous amount of money, making sure there was enough for everything he needed to do. After all, he was going to go _shopping. _He had an image to uphold.

~LV-HP~

** Alright, that's chapter two for ya. Tell me what you think, I love hearing from you guys! Even one review and I'm jumping up and down. :3 Anyway, I gather you guys would like to hear more about Harry Tobias Snape a bit more, so I was thinking every five or ten chapters I'd have a bonus chapter—sort of like an intermission—from his life. Then you'd get to see a bit more of why he does what he does. Let me know if you'd like that. **

** Anyway, next chapter I hope to get passed Harry's Hogwarts letter and maybe to the beginning of his first year. We'll see. ;) **


End file.
